The Outlaw
by bleakdesolation
Summary: Gaara was an outlaw that was sent to prison. Now on a stroke of luck he's been invited to serve the remaining sentence on Naruto's ranch. Nobody wants to get close to him. The one person who does can send him back to prison in a blink of an eye. GaaXNaru
1. Chapter 1

A/N-I finally finished the first chapter! It seemed to take forever. I probably shouldn't have even started this one yet seeing how I'm not done with my other story, but It was rolling around in my brain. I had to get it out of there.

Disclaimer-I do not own Naruto or any of the characters there of.

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The Outlaw 

Chapter 1

The first thing Gaara Sabaku noticed when the train pulled into the station was the boy standing on the platform.

He was the prettiest thing Gaara had seen in five years.

His blonde hair was tucked up neatly beneath a black wide rimmed hat. The tips of his black shoes peeked out from beneath the hem of his pants.

Gaara thought his eyes were green, but he couldn't be certain-not from this distance, not peering through the dirty train window.

The boy jutted his bottom lip into a little pout that caused his insides to tighten. His mouth reminded him of the plump strawberries he'd tasted at the beginning of a long-ago summer. He'd snitched them out of a garden that grew beside a house with gingham curtains fluttering in the windows and a white picket fence.

He'd convinced himself the pain in his gut was the result of being hungry-not the longing for all the comforts the folks inside the house took for granted. He'd forced himself to gobble down the juicy berries and not think about soft beds or clean clothes or a warm bath.

The boy rocked back and forth on his heels, tipping his hat slightly down as if he were waiting for somebody. Looking at him prevented Gaara from having to acknowledge the stares of the passengers making their way off the train. He kept his hands tucked between his thighs, so the shackles on his wrists weren't quite as visible.

But people notice them anyway. He could tell when they did, because he'd hear them gasp or whisper harshly to their traveling companion that a criminal had been sitting in their midst.

"Hey mister, are you an outlaw?" a boy suddenly asked loudly.

Flinching inwardly, Gaara focused his attention more intently on the boy outside the window. He was tapping his foot now, his growing impatience apparent.

"Run along, son," the man sitting beside him said.

Gaara didn't know his name. His guard hadn't bothered with introductions when he'd slapped on the iron.

"Is he an outlaw?" the kid asked again, his excitement echoing around the small compartment. "Is he?"

"Used to be," the man said. "Ain't no more. Now he's a prisoner of the state."

Gaara felt as though he'd been a prisoner of the state for most of his life. His mother had left him on somebody's doorstep, wrapped in a tattered blanket with a note that simply said. Please love him.

No one had bothered to comply with her request. He'd been past around from person to person, never feeling as though anyone truly wanted him. At least not until he'd joined up with the Akatsuki gang. Under the leadership of Sometimes-Red-Eyed-Itachi, for a time, at least, he'd thought he'd discovered where he belonged.

But the bungled bank robbery had found him sentenced to spend ten years at Konoha strict correctional facility. He'd already survived five in that retched hole. Now he had a chance to serve his remaining time beneath the blue Konoha sky. He didn't intend to lose this opportunity-no matter what the cost.

The guard stood. "Let's go, boy."

Gaara unfolded his body, moved into the isle, and headed for the door. The guard trailed behind him with his rifle held at the ready in the crook of his arm. Gaara knew the man would just as soon shoot him as see him get off the train, so he kept his strides short, slow, nonthreatening.

He walked through the door and to the steps that led to the platform. Placing one hand on the railing forced him to put both there because of the way his hands were linked together. He climbed down carefully, awkwardly.

He didn't dare look for the pretty boy now. He prayed he'd moved on and wouldn't catch sight of him with humiliating chains jangling between his wrists.

With the butt of his rifle, the guard shoved him forward. "Keep going. Judge Jiraiya is standing right over there."

Even if the guard hadn't pointed him out, Gaara would have recognized Judge Jiraiya. He'd lost track of the number of days that had passed since he'd been escorted to the warden's office, where he'd met the judge for the first time.

Judge Jiraiya had only recently replace Judge Sarutobi, better known as the Hanging Judge-the man who had sentenced Gaara to ten years hard time. Gaara hadn't been able to work up a spark of pity when word had traveled through the prison that the Hanging Judge had met his maker.

Judge Jiraiya had been reviewing Judge Sarutobi's records. Apparently the previous judge had kept detailed accounts on every criminal who'd appeared in his courtroom and every sentence he'd handed down.

"I don't like doubting my predecessor" Judge Jiraiya had said, "but I think he might have been a bit harsh when he sentenced you."

A bit harsh? Gaara thought that was an understatement. The man had been downright mean, with a steely glare that had made Gaara fear the Hanging Judge was going to live up to his reputation and sentence Gaara to dance in the wind from the nearest oak tree.

"I'm not willing to commute your sentence," Judge Jiraiya continued, "but I'm willing to let you serve out your time under less desolate conditions."

So here Gaara was, his mouth suddenly as dry as the Suna wind, walking toward the man who held his freedom in his hands. Judge Jiraiya had looked imposing and ominous when he'd met with Gaara at Konoha strict correctional facility.

He was even more so now, standing on the platform on black trousers, a black jacket, and a black hat with his dark eyes roaming over Gaara, taking in every little detail of his existence. Gaara was nearly as tall as the judge, but held under his intense scrutiny, he felt remarkably smaller.

Judge Jiraiya pressed his lips into a hard line of disapproval, and Gaara figured he was going to be getting right back on the train and heading toward the Konoha strict correctional facility before the sun set.

"Did he give you any trouble?" Judge Jiraiya asked.

"No, sir," the guard said. "I just wasn't willing to take any chances with a convict."

Judge Jiraiya narrowed his eyes, and Gaara wondered if the man was striving to search his soul.

"Are you planning to cause any trouble?" Judge Jiraiya asked.

"No, sir," Gaara answered.

The judge nodded. "Get the shackles off him."

"With all due respect, Judge, if he was to escape—"

"My boys will track him down," Judge Jiraiya interrupted.

Gaara noticed the two men standing on either side of the judge. With similar stances, they looked enough like Judge Jiraiya that he figured they were his sons.

"And he'll regret the day he was born," Judge Jiraiya finished.

Gaara didn't figure the judge or his sons could make him regret that day any more than he already did.

He cringed when the guard inserted the key into the lock and the grinding of metal echoed around him. Anyone who hadn't noticed his chains before were sure to notice them now. He suspected the guard deliberately made as much commotion as possible.

As soon as the shackles fell away, Gaara dropped his arms to his sides, reusing to rub his aching wrists and give his guard any satisfaction from knowing the discomfort he'd caused. He fought to hold the judge's gaze when he desperately wanted to look away.

"Thanks, Izumo, you can go now," the judge said to the guard.

"But if he escapes—"

"Are you going to escape?" Judge Jiraiya asked.

"No, sir.

They had a deal, and although the judge had no reason to believe otherwise, Gaara had never broken his word. Broken the law, yes, but never gone back on his word.

The judge nodded, and Gaara almost thought he saw a softening in those dark eyes. "That'll be all, Izumo."

"Yes, sir."

Leaning near Gaara, the guard whispered in a low voice, "Keep your nose clean, boy. You don't want to end up back in my prison."

If that wasn't the gosh-darned truth, Gaara didn't know what was. After the guard climbed back on the train, some of Gaara's tension eased away.

The judge gave Gaara another slow perusal before saying, "These are my sons, Kakashi and Gai."

Both men gave him a nod. Niether dared to lie and say he was pleased to meet Gaara. They appeared to be a little older than Gaara's nineteen years.

"We've got several things to discuss," Judge Jiraiya said, "but we can do that back at the ranch. The wagons over here. Naruto?"

At the click of approaching footsteps, Gaara turned his head…and there he was, the pretty boy he'd been staring at while he'd sat on the train. His stomach dropped clear down to his boots. He'd seen him clamber down the steps, heard the awful clang of his shackles, and had to know of his crimes.

"This is my other son, Naruto," the judge said.

Up close he was even lovelier than he'd appeared from a distance. His eyes were blue, not green. Blue like the lake he once took a nap near by.

Gaara snatched his hat from his head and crushed the brim with his hands.

"Sir." His voice sounded as though he hadn't used it in at least a dozen years.

The boy's eyes twinkled and his lips curled up slightly. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Mr. Sabaku."

Unlike his brothers, he apparently had no qualms about stretching the truth, although he had a difficult time believing a voice as lyrical as his could ever utter a lie. He was a dainty little thing, but he also gave off an air of confidence that came from knowing he belonged.

"I didn't much like that guard," he said. "He seemed mean-spirited."

Gaara stared at him. He'd never heard anyone except fellow prisoners say something unflattering about a guard.

"It's his job to be harsh," Gai said. "Otherwise convicts would be escaping all over the place."

"Papa's harsh," he said. "But he's not mean. There's a difference. Don't you agree, Mr. Sabaku?"

Gaara couldn't think of a single thing to say as the boy held Gaara's gaze.

"Cat got your tongue?" he asked.

"That'll be enough now, Naruto," Judge Jiraiya said.

"You see," he said. "Harsh but not mean."

His mouth blossomed into a smile that stole his breath as surly as he'd stolen money from a dozen banks. He wanted to tuck that smile into his pocket so he could take it out and look at it from time to time.

The judge cleared his throat, and Gaara dropped his gaze to his well-worn boots. He figured if the judge thought he had an interest in his son, he'd put him right back on the train.

And that wouldn't do at all. The last place Gaara ever wanted to go again was prison.

outlawXoutlawXoutlawXoutlawXoutlawXoutlaw

As the wagon rumbled over the dirt road, Naruto sat on the bench seat beside his father while his brothers huddled in the back with the outlaw.

The outlaw.

Gaara Sabaku certainly didn't look like a criminal to him. His cheeks had actually flushed when he'd removed his hat upon being introduced to him. He'd never seen a man blush before, and he'd spent time around a lot of men: his father, his brothers, and all the cowboys who worked his father's ranch.

But it was the outlaw's green eyes that captured and held his attention. Weary. As though he'd seen too much of life and didn't care to see much more.

"Papa, how old did you say Gaara was?" he asked quietly, hoping the squeaking of the wagon and the clip clop of the horses' hooves would keep his voice from traveling to the outlaw's ears.

"Nineteen," his father said in an equally low voice.

"He looks older than Kakashi's twenty-four years," he said.

"He's had a hard life. Judge Sarutobi didn't make it any easier." He looked askance at him. "You're not to flirt with him. He's not one of the cowhands you can wrap around your finger."

Gaara had furrows in his brow, as though he worried often. He had no laugh lines around his mouth to indicate he ever smiled. Although he could well imagine he had little to smile about.

"I simply wanted to reassure him that your bark is worse than your bite," he explained.

"Until I get a true measure of the young man," his father said quietly, "let's let him think my bite is something to worry about."

Most people did see his father as gruff and uncompromising. He knew it was just his way. But sometimes he could be downright intimidating.

He stared strait ahead, picturing in his mind his first impression of the outlaw.

His brothers were dressed much as his father was: neatly pressed white shirt, black jacket, black string tie, and black trousers. They represented with no mistake exactly what they were: the successful sons of a successful man.

Gaara Sabaku, on the other hand, looked as though he was a complete stranger to success.

His clothes were bedraggled, giving the impression that someone had scrounged them out of the bottom of an abandon box. Naruto thought the state was supposed to provide released prisoners with new clothes, but then Gaara Sabaku wasn't truly set free.

His britches were torn, his boots even more so. His hat looked as though it had been stuffed into a trunk somewhere. It suddenly occurred to him that it probably had been. He didn't think they let prisoners hold on to their personal possessions.

His hair-the red in a fire-was in desperate need of trimming. He was surprised to discover he had a desire to cut it, and more, he wanted to take a razor to the bristles shadowing his face. But he didn't think either action would soften the ruggedness that seemed to be a part of him.

Almost as tall as his father and Kakashi, a little shorter than Gai, he had wide shoulder and a broad chest that spoke of hard labor. Yet he also possessed a wiriness that reminded him of a starving coyote he'd once seen attack the herd. His clothes fairly hung off his body as though no one had bothered to measure him before replacing his prison uniform with an outfit that would prevent him from standing out in a crowd.

Still, he stood out. Not so much because of the awful shackles he'd been wearing, but because of the wariness that emanated from him. As though he didn't expect trust and wouldn't be disappointed if he didn't receive it.

He imagined prison life wasn't easy.

As a matter of fact, its very harshness had haunted his father when he discovered that Judge Sarutobi had sent a fourteen-year-old boy to prison. Two weeks ago his father called a family meeting to discuss his plans to put a convicted man within their midst-before he'd approached Gaara Sabaku with his offer.

He could serve his remaining five years under the judge's supervision, working at his ranch. The labor would be as hard as or harder than the work he did in prison, but as long as he didn't cause trouble he'd have a semblance of freedom. In five years' time, he could go or stay. The choice would be his.

Naruto imagined he'd hightail it to the far corners of the country faster than a cat with is tail on fire. Not that he could blame him. He knew a little about not having freedom.

Ten days shy of eighteen, he thought he was old enough to make his own decisions, but his father seldom agreed. Since his mother had passed away when Naruto was little, Naruto had no other parent to appeal to. His father's words were the law of the family. Some principles he simply wouldn't compromise.

Naruto wanted to read dime novels; he insisted Naruto read Shakespeare.

He wanted a beau. He forbade him from having gentlemen callers until his birthday-as though ten more days made a world of difference between him bring a boy and a man,

Sighing with frustration at the reminder of his limitations, Naruto shifted his gaze back toward his father. Naruto loved him dearly. He only wished he'd grant him as much freedom as he planned to give this outlaw. But his father was in a habit of laying down rules and having them obeyed unconditionally.

He'd overheard him tell the outlaw that they had things to discuss. He knew just what he'd say in his resonant voice: Don't do this and don't do that.

He'd used the same tone when he'd explained Naruto was to never, ever put himself in a situation that would leave him alone with Gaara Sabaku. He knew it was simply his father's way, to issue orders like some general commanding troops. Probably a habit he'd developed during the War when he had commanded troops. Still, he resented all the rules and the fact that he had to find ways around them in order to have any fun.

Finding a way around his orders to steer clear of Gaara would be a real challenge. He understood his father's precaution regarding the outlaw. He truly did, but he'd never been around anyone who'd broken the law, anyone who'd been sent to prison. Gaara fascinated him as much as the law did.

While his father had been establishing his ranch, he'd also worked as a lawyer in Konoha. He'd watched the town change from a military outpost into one of the most prosperous and progressive cities in the country. Lawyers had benefited from its rapid growth. Naruto had often listened to his father explaining various aspects of the law to his brothers. He'd even questioned him about some matters, wanting more information than he provided.

He'd answered his questions with an indulgent smile. Then he'd say, "It's a shame you have such a frail body. You have a sharp mind and more interest in the law than your brothers."

He didn't think it was a shame that he had been born frail. He simply thought it was unfair that people thought frail people should be interested in easy jobs. Naruto wanted so much more.

He was contemplating becoming a lawyer. He'd even begun studying his father's law books.

He also welcomed the idea of perhaps following in his father's footsteps and eventually becoming a judge. But he couldn't help but wonder if he had it within him to sentence a man to prison. To take away his freedom when he so valued his.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Gaara. With one leg stretched out, he dangled a scarred wrist across the knee he's raised.

He didn't want to think about the shackles he'd been wearing when he'd clambered off the train, or how many times before today he might have been forced to wear them. They'd sounded heavy when the guard had removed them. Heavy and uncomfortable.

He told himself that anyone who committed a crime deserved harsh treatment. Still, this young man intrigued him. He wondered why he'd ridden with the notorious Akatsuki gang.

Was it excitement? The money? The danger? Disrespect for the law?

Certainly only someone who held no respect for the law would dare break it. Although Gaara Sabaku didn't appear to be disrespectful, he figured prison could beat respect into a mangy dog.

But another reason for his unexpected politeness at the depot nagged at him. Perhaps someone had made a mistake. Perhaps Gaara Sabaku was truly innocent.

The outlaw sliced his gaze over to him, and trepidation slithered through him. He didn't look at all innocent.

He looked downright dangerous.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N-an update is finally here for all you readers!

Disclaimer-I do not own Naruto or the characters that come from there.

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The Outlaw

Chapter 2

Twilight was easing over the land by the time the judge pulled the wagon to a halt in front of a large brick house. It stood two stories tall, larger than anything Gaara had ever seen. A huge porch supported by white columns welcomed visitors.

A man with the hair the color of muddy river sat on the porch. He slowly came to his feet as everyone climbed out of the wagon.

Gaara's feet hit the dirt path, sending up a plume of dust. For a moment he stood mesmerized, watching as the judge helped his son. Naruto placed his delicate hands on his father's shoulder's while his father wrapped his around Naruto's waist. He lifted him down as though he weighed no more than a wispy cloud.

Gaara had caught Naruto watching him several times during the journey. Every time he'd given him a hard glare, expecting him to look away. Instead he'd defiantly held his gaze, tilting up that cute chin of his until he'd finally looked away, embarrassed that he knew where he'd spent the last five years of his life.

The man who'd been sitting on the porch approached. "Judge."

The judge gave him a curt nod before turning to Gaara. "Gaara, this is Zabuza."

The wind and sun had practically turned Zabuza's face into leather, but his brown eyes held kindness. He stuck out his hand. "Welcome to the Lazy J, but you'll discover soon enough that we're anything but lazy around here."

Gaara wasn't exactly sure what to do. He'd seen the gesture a thousand times as he'd ridden through towns, whenever a man on the boardwalk stopped to talk to those they knew. But he'd never placed his hand in another's.

He could feel Naruto watching him, studying him, as the seconds touched by and his unease with the situation grew.

"The custom of shaking a hand in greeting was started during the medieval period," Naruto said softly, as though understanding his hesitation. "A knight extended his hand to show that he wasn't holding a weapon."

Gaara jerked his attention to him. "I don't have a gun."

"Of course you don't. I didn't mean that you did. I was just explaining-"

"An old wives' tale," Gai interrupted. "Just shake Zabuza's hand."

With reluctance, Gaara wiped his sweating palm on his britches before taking Zabuza's hand. Zabuza gave Gaara's hand a quick shake and released his hold. Gaara didn't understand how that little action told a man that the other wasn't carrying a weapon. After all, a man had two hands.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Naruto asked.

Before Gaara could answer, the judge said, "I think we've done all the talking out here that we need to do. Let's get up to the house."

Gaara was hoping that order didn't include him, but everyone else started up the steps, leaving him rooted in the dust, he had a feeling it did. He was torn between going inside and staying where he was.

He'd never been inside a house that looked like this one. Oh, for a while when he was small he'd lived with a widow who'd kept her house as clean as she'd kept him, scrubbing his body with the same brush she'd used for the floors.

But he'd never been inside a building that housed a family.

As uncomfortable as he felt about following them, he was equally curious and desperate to know what other people possessed.

"Gaara?"

Gaara jumped at the judge's insistent voice. The man waited in the doorway.

Gaara trudged up the steps and entered the house. The scent of flowers greeted him. He'd never been in a place that smelled like a field of wildflowers in spring. For the most part, when he'd stayed indoors before prison, he'd usually stayed in storage rooms or barns.

"We'll talk in my library," the judge said, indicating a room off to the side.

Gaara followed him inside and came to an abrupt halt. He'd never seen so many books in his entire life. They lined the shelves on two walls, from the floor to the ceiling. He wondered if the judge had read them all. He wondered even more how so many different stories could exist.

He shifted his attention to the judge's son. With his hands folded on his lap, he sat elegantly in a chair off to the side. His gaze roamed over him in a leisurely fashion that caused the heat of embarrassment to build within him.

He'd never cared much about his appearance, but right now he felt as though every aspect of his person were sorely lacking. He watched Naruto watching him, wondering if he would find anything about him that pleased him. Wondering more why he cared whether he did or not.

He seemed completely at ease here, as though he knew he was safe, knew he would always be so. He'd probably never had a day of sadness in his life. Strangely, he didn't envy him that fact. Rather he was glad.

He wouldn't wish his life on his worst enemy.

The judge cleared his throat, and Gaara snapped his attention around to the man wearing a scowl of disapproval. Obviously showing any interest at all in the judge's daughter was not a good idea.

The judge sat in a large leather chair behind a massive mahogany desk, presiding over the room as he no doubt did his courtroom. His son's propped themselves on either corner of the desk, like sentinels who thought it was their job to protect their father. With his arms crossed over his chest, Zabuza stood behind the judge and off to the side, lose to the fireplace.

To the right of Zabuza, nestled in a corner, was a large safe. Gaara had opened a half dozen like it in his time. It was too large and heavy to be moved-probably the reason Judge Jiraiya didn't bother to hide it. Its contents were well protected unless a man had dynamite or sensitive fingertips and sharp hearing. Gaara possessed the latter.

"I may own this land," Judge Jiraiya began, once again capturing Gaara's attention, "but Zabuza runs things for me. You'll take your orders from him. He's not going to cut you any slack. You disobey him once, and you'll find yourself back at prison. Understand?"

So much for Gaara's hope that life here would be different from life in prison.

Still he answered, "Yes, sir."

"If my sons give you an order, you follow without question. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"You're to stay away from my son Naruto." Judge Jiraiya practically sliced Gaara in two with his gaze. "Understand?"

Gaara fought not to shift his gaze over to Naruto. "Yes, sir."

Judge Jiraiya sighed and leaned back in his chair. "You're free to move about the ranch as long as you let Zabuza or my sons know where you're going. You don't tell them, and you're at prison. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Try to escape and you're back at prison. You'll notice I said 'try,' because I give you my word that my sons are fine trackers. Understand?"

Gaara was beginning to sound like an echo. "Yes, sir."

"No drinking no gambling, no fighting, no cussing. Those are my rules. Break one of them, and you're back at prison. Understand?"

He decided he'd be lucky to last through the night. Still, he nodded. "Yes, sir."

"All right, then, Zabuza will take you to the bunk house and introduce you to the men. I have no tolerance for lawbreakers. I'm giving you a chance here to prove that Judge Sarutobi's judgment regarding you was wrong. Don't squander this opportunity to better your life."

"Yes. Sir."

Zabuza uncrossed his arms, stepped away from his exalted position behind the judge, and rounded the desk. "Let's go"

Gaara wondered if he should say something to Judge Jiraiya before leaving, but he couldn't think of anything that might be appropriate. The man's good intentions were welcome…even if they came with a lot of rules. But he couldn't quite bring himself to thank the man. As far as Gaara was concerned, one judge wasn't that much different from any other.

So Gaara simply nodded and fell into step behind the foreman as he walked out of the room. He was eager to get away from the judge's sons, who'd been boring their gazes into him as though they'd wanted to drill clear into his soul.

And he definitely wanted to get away from the judge's other son, because not looking at him was about the hardest thing he'd ever done in his life.

As they stepped onto the porch, Gaara took comfort in the dimming twilight. It signaled one less day he had to serve for his crimes.

He followed Zabuza as he headed toward a wood framed building in the distance, past the barn. Gaara cast a longing glance at the horses prancing within the nearby corral. With one of them beneath him, he could hightail it—

"You know any other words beside 'yes, sir'?" Zabuza asked, interrupting Gaara's thoughts of escape.

Gaara tore his gaze off the corral and focused it on the man walking beside him, walking as though he wasn't in any hurry to be anywhere.

"Yes, sir," he responded dryly

Prison had taught him to say as little as possible in order to survive. Never tell a man more than he needed to know. Never reveal what the world couldn't see on its own.

Zabuza didn't break his stride while he looked at Gaara as though measuring him. "I know Judge Jiraiya seems like a hard man, but he's risking a lot bringing you here. His reputation, his business, his family. He has a right to set down rules. Perhaps even an obligation to do so."

Gaara was growing wary of the reminders that his freedom was only an illusion. They all worried about what it was costing the judge. No one seemed concerned with what it was costing him-to see all the things he'd never possessed. And never would.

He wasn't thinking about the fancy knickknacks that decorated the tables or the pretty pictures hanging on the walls. He was thinking about the solidarity and familiarity that emanated from the folks in the room

Everyone seemed secure in their place, knew where they belonged. Gaara couldn't imagine the satisfaction that might come from filling up the empty places in his soul with those emotions.

Zabuza stopped short of the bunkhouse door. "I'll be honest with you, Gaara. A lot of the men aren't comfortable with the idea of having you around. You just stay clear of them, and I don't think we'll have any problems."

Gaara narrowed his eyes. One more rule to follow.

"Me, I think every man deserves a second chance, but I'll be watching you closely," Zabuza continued. "Like Judge Jiraiya said, disobey one of his rules and you'll find yourself back at prison."

Gaara heard a cacophony of sounds emanating from inside the bunkhouse: deep voices, laughter, the scraping of chairs over a floor, and footsteps. He didn't much welcome the prospect of facing a new bunch of strangers, but his whole life had been filled with nothing but strangers. He should have been accustomed to it by now, but his stomach knotted up, his mouth grew dry, and his palms got sweaty.

He swallowed hard and fought not to show his apprehension. "You gonna jaw all night or get on with this?"

A corner of Zabuza's mouth tilted up. "Reckon I'll get on with it. If you have any problems, though, you come see me."

Right. Gaara was certain that somewhere in both the judge's and Zabuza's words resided the unspoken warning that if he complained he'd be sent back to prison. He understood that fact without its being said directly.

Zabuza opened the door and stepped inside. Gaara followed. A hush fell over the room. The fellas who were playing poker at a table no longer looked at the cards they held in their hands. Instead they narrowed their eyes and stared at Gaara.

Men who'd been lying in bunks slowly sat up as though to challenge him.

"This here's Gaara, the new hand Judge Jiraiya spoke to you about," Zabuza announced, his voice booming to the distant corners, "I don't want any trouble, Gaara doesn't want any trouble, and I guarantee the judge doesn't want any. If you've got any problems with this situation you come see me."

Zabuza jerked his head to the side. "That'll be your bed. Far corner, upper bunk."

Gaara gave a curt nod before wending his way among tables, chairs, and outstretched legs. He met the gaze of every man who dared him to look away. He'd learned in prison never to show fear even if he was quaking in his boots. Survival depended on being the first one to set up defenses.

The fella sitting on the lower bed below Gaara's slowly stood, his fists bunched at his sides, his eyes never straying from Gaara.

Ignoring him, Gaara planted his foot on the bottom bed and hoisted himself onto the bed up top. Stretching out, he folded his arms beneath his head and stared at the knotholes in the ceiling.

He'd done a quick tally and counted ten double buks, so he figured the ranch probably had close to twenty workers. Hi felt distrust and hatred emanating from each one of them. The hard truth hit him painfully.

Living here wasn't going to be much different from being on prison after all.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N-I'm sorry about the first chapter mix up. I fixed though so it should be good. Naruto is a boy! I really need to stop watching Bleach while I write these. Anyway thank you to all the people who brought it to my attention so I could change it. I'm also sorry for not updating sooner like with the others, lets face it. I'm lazy. I admit it. I am. To the people who read my other story it may be awhile till I update that as well seeing as how I just finished this one and haven't even started on the other one. Sorry! Please forgive me!

Disclaimer-I do not own Naruto.

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The Outlaw

Chapter 3

"Naruto, stop picking at your food," his father ordered.

When in the world is he going to stop treating me like a child and allow me to do as I please? If I'm not in the mood to eat, so why do I have to eat?

Turning his attention away from the slice of lamb resting on his plate that he'd been poking with his fork, Naruto met his father's gaze where he sat at the head of the table. Kakashi and Gai sat on either side of him. Naruto had the dubious honor of sitting beside Gai.

"I can't seem to stop thinking about that outlaw," Naruto admitted. He felt sorry for him, standing in front of his father as he'd listed the conditions under which Gaara could stay at the ranch.

"He won't hurt you," Naruto's father assured him.

"I'm not afraid of him," he said. At least, he didn't want to be afraid of him. "I was just wondering if it was really necessary to give him so many rules to follow."

"I simply didn't want any misunderstandings to arise," he stated flatly.

Naruto didn't think there was much chance of that happening. His father was a man governed by the law, but sometimes Naruto thought he took his dedication to it to the extreme.

"Why do you think he did it?" Naruto asked. "Robbed the bank, I mean."

"A lazy man looking for easy money." Kakashi said.

"Only he wasn't a man." Naruto pointed out. "He was still a boy, a child really."

"Fourteen is old enough to be considered a man." Gai said. "We've had cowboys who weren't much older than that working for us when we've driven cattle north."

Naruto truly wasn't interested in his brothers' opinions. They didn't know any more about Gaara Sabaku than Naruto did. His father, on the other hand, had read Judge Sarutobi's account of the case.

"Papa, why do you think he did it?" Naruto repeated.

"I suspect Gai hit the nail on the head. The boy was looking for an easy way out."

"Prison doesn't seem like an easy way out to me." Naruto told him.

"He didn't plan on getting caught, Naruto." Kakashi said, as though Naruto didn't possess a lick of sense.

Sometimes his brothers were an irritating nuisance. Just because they were older didn't mean they were smarter.

Naruto moved his carrots from one side of his plate to the other. Watching Gaara get off the train, he'd felt a whole range of emotions. He's originally been frightened at the sight of the shackles, thinking he must be dangerous if he had to be restrained.

But as he'd approached him and seen the loneliness in Gaara's eyes, he'd felt a strong urge to comfort him. Until he'd given Naruto a look from the back of the wagon that had reminded him of a hungry wolf. Strangely, rather than making him wary, Gaara had only served to pique his curiosity and to confuse him.

"I thought he'd look mean," he murmured.

How did Gaara manage to look dangerous without appearing to be terrifying? Naruto always associated fear with danger. But what he felt now wasn't a scary sensation, but more of an exciting allure.

"Don't be fooled, Naruto," Kakashi said. "Judge Sarutobi didn't send him to prison without good reason."

Naruto gnawed on his lower lip. "If Papa believed that, he wouldn't have brought Gaara here." He turned to his father. "You think Judge Sarutobi was wrong, don't you?"

Naruto's father sighed. "I don't know. I don't like second-guessing another judge. Gaara was involved in an armed bank robbery during a time when crime here was escalating. A man was shot. He didn't die, but he came close. I suppose Judge Sarutobi wanted to make an example of Gaara. I don't fault him for that. I just thought the sentence seemed a bit harsh for a four-teen-year-old.

"For all we know, maybe it wasn't harsh enough," Gai said. "I just hope we don't all come to regret your good intentions."

Their father shoved his plate away, as though by doing so he could bring an end to the conversation. "Until we can get a good measure of he young man, I want you to watch him closely, but give him some slack."

"He'll just hang himself with it," Kakashi said.

Naruto's brothers usually weren't negative, but then they normally didn't have an outlaw walking among them.

"It'll be his choice if he does," his father said.

"What do you know about him?" Naruto asked. "Other than the fact that he's an outlaw, I mean."

"Not much." His father admitted. "Judge Sarutobi wrote more about the crime than he did the offender."

"Gaara seemed polite enough," he offered.

"I reckon prison can beat politeness into you." Gai said.

Naruto hated to admit he'd thought the same thing earlier. It wasn't often he and Gai agreed on anything-except for their enjoyment of dime novels. He had so many books that Naruto could always snitch one out of his bedroom without his noticing.

His father shook his head slightly, furrowing his brow. "He was short on words, but polite when I visited him in prison. That's the reason I decided it was safe to take a chance and let him serve out his time here." He pointed his finger at Naruto. "But you, young man, are to stay away from him."

Naruto decided that task would be easier said than done. He was fascinated with the outlaw and his deep green eyes that reflected a sadness he didn't think he could even begin to imagine.

outlawXoutlawXoutlawXoutlawxoutlawXoutlawX

Since entering the bunkhouse, Gaara hadn't spoken a single word to anyone, and no one had spoken to him. The cowhand who slept on the bunk beneath his had finally returned to his bed when he realized Gaara wasn't going to fight him.

Shortly after eight o-clock, Kisame had announced it was time to hit the sack. Cards had been put away and lanterns dimmed before most of the men had crawled onto their beds.

Some snored. Gaara was able to block out the noise, though. Men had snored in prison. Prison was never quite, never still. There was always a sound, a restless movement, a wanting to be somewhere else so badly….

And right now he wanted to be anywhere but here. He shifted his gaze from the shadows dancing across the ceiling to those washing over the door. Moonlight eased in through the slats of the shutters covering the windows. Not a lot of light, but enough that he could see that no one sat in chairs near the tables or windows.

Zabuza had left the bunkhouse after shouting another order for everyone to be quiet and get some shut-eye. He hadn't returned. The temptation to step outside overwhelmed Gaara.

It had been a little over five years since he'd been able to leave a room simply because he wanted to.

The bed moaned as he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bunk. He held his breath, waiting for someone to tell him to lie back down.

But no such order came. And it dawned on him that he didn't have to answer to these men. He only had to report to Zabuza, and he wasn't around.

Carefully, quietly, he eased off the bunk until boots touched the ground with a hushed thud. He considered removing them, but where he wanted to go, he'd probably need them. Besides, removing them would probably make more noise than just creeping to the door.

So he crept. He heard someone stir and someone else snort. A muffled cough. A squeaking bed.

But no one came forward to stop him.

The hinges creaked as he opened the door slightly and slipped into the night.

He drew in a deep breath of clean air. He didn't know if anything had ever smelled so sweet.

"Going somewhere?" a deep voice asked, nearly sending him leaping off the porch.

He twisted around. In the shadows beneath the eaves, he made out Zabuza's silhouette.

"I needed some air," he said defensively.

"Yeah, I know the feeling. Some of those boys don't wash their sock often enough."

It wasn't the smell of feet or sweat or bodies that had caused him to want to leave. It was everything closing in on him…getting smaller and smaller until it was no bigger than a closet.

"You always guard the door?" Gaara asked, resentment rising in him like burning bile. He knew he had no reason to be trusted, but he hated having every moment watched and measured. When the judge had made his offer, Gaara had thought he was getting out of prison. Instead he was discovering that it had simply taken a different shape.

"I always take some time in the evening to relax out here before I turn in." Zabuza said. "You got a problem with my habits?'

"No, sir"

Gaara glanced toward the corral. He needed to walk somewhere, to escape for a few minutes, to pretend he wasn't shackled by his past crimes.

"Can I take a walk around here?" he asked.

"I'm not your jailer, boy."

He snapped his head around. "I thought you were."

"I'm supposed to keep an eye on you, but I don't plan to watch you like a hawk. I give you my word, though, that if you run off, I'll hunt you down if the judge's boys don't find you first.

"I've no plans to run off. As bad as this is, it's a lot better than prison."

"I know that for a fact," Zabuza said.

Gaara's breath caught. "You've been in prison?"

"My past is my business. Take your walk."

With a deep breath, Gaara stepped off the porch and headed for the corral. In prison, his job had been to tend to the needs of the guards' horses: brushing them, feeding them, and keeping their stalls clean. His desire to get close to the familiar was almost overwhelming.

He'd enjoyed caring for the animals. He wasn't certain what his chores around here would entail, but maybe he could look out for the animals as well.

He glanced toward the house. Pale light spilled out of a couple of the windows on the second floor. He wondered if any of the windows visible to him belonged to Naruto. It would be a lot easier serving out his time here if Naruto weren't around.

In the judge's library, he'd been torn between wanting to look at him and being ashamed that he'd been sent to prison.

He reached the corral and folded his arms over the top railing. Several padlocks fanned out from this one. The others housed several horses each, but within this main one, a lone horse cantered around the edge of the fence as though it felt as restless as Gaara did. As though it, too, wanted to escape. Moonlight played over its shiny black coat.

Gaara clicked his tongue behind his teeth, making a little clacking sound as he held out his hand.

"Come here," he said softly. "Come here."

He'd always drawn comfort from the animals he'd tended. They didn't judge a man even when he deserved judgment.

The horse cautiously approached. Gaara reached out a hand and rubbed its muzzle. He wished he had a bit of an apple or a carrot to offer.

"She bites." A soft male voice said.

Gaara snatched his hand back and spun around. The youngest of the judge's son's stood beside him.

Gaara shoved his hands into his britches pockets and took a step back. He was near enough that he could smell Naruto's honeysuckle sent.

"Cat got your tongue?" Naruto asked

Naruto had asked him that same thing at the depot, and he hadn't known what to say then either. His mouth felt dry enough that it was possible something had hold of his tongue.

"I'm supposed to stay away from you." He sounded breathless, as though he'd run out to the corral.

"So go back to the bunkhouse if your scared."

Gaara's pride bristled at the challenge. "I'm not scared."

But he was. He didn't want to go back to prison, and staying away from Naruto was a rule. He pointed toward the bunkhouse. "Zabuza's sitting on the porch."

"Knowing Zabuza, he won't interfere unless I holler. He believes in giving a person more freedom than my father does."

Still, Zabuza was watching, and all he had to do was tell the judge that Gaara had been out with Naruto and he'd be back at prison. He knew he should leave, but he didn't want Naruto thinking he was afraid. He'd learned in prison that to survive he couldn't let anyone know he was afraid.

So he stayed, with his stomach knotting up and his blood thundering in his ears.

Naruto turned away from him, stepped on the bottom rung of the fence, and crossed his arms over the top railing. The horse neared, and Naruto held out his hand.

Even in the darkness, Gaara could tell Naruto had something in his palm. He saw the horse nudge his hand and then heard the crisp echo of munching.

"Thought you said she bites," Gaara said, irritated that Naruto's earlier comment had caused him to snatch his hand back.

"She's not silly enough to bite the hand that feeds her. Are you?"

"What do you mean?"

Naruto turned his head toward Gaara, and he saw the moonlight dancing in his eyes and outlining the curves of his cheeks.

"You look at my father as though you resent him."

"I resent the rules," he admitted.

"I'm not to fond of them myself," Naruto said.

Gaara knew he should head back to the bunkhouse, but his chest ached with wanting. For just a few minutes, if he kept his distance, maybe no harm would come from pretending that he was like every other fella in the bunkhouse-was truly free to pursue his dreams.

Gaara glanced over his shoulder. No sign of Zabuza. Maybe he could stay a minute more.

Naruto pulled his hand out of his pocket and handed anther morsel of apple to the horse. "Don't you think she's beautiful?" He asked.

Gaara couldn't remember the last time anyone had asked his opinion on a matter. Why would Naruto care what he thought about his horse? "Maybe," he answered.

"You're not much of a talker, are you?"

"I talk when I have something to say."

"Which apparently isn't very often. Aren't you curious about my horse?"

He could imagine Zabuza watching him, counting off the minutes. "I need to get back to the bunkhouse."

"We've had Duchess for almost two months," Naruto said quickly, "but no one has been able to break her. Papa says you worked with the prison's horses"

"So?" he asked, irritated that Naruto knew his private business. Although he supposed as a prisoner, he really had no private business.

"Do you know much about horses?"

"Some."

"If she's not broken soon, father will get rid of her. He doesn't have much tolerance for rebellion-in animals or people."

Gaara thought he detected a measure of resentment in Naruto's voice. He couldn't imagine that Naruto did much rebelling, although he had to admit Naruto was out here in the dead of night talking to him.

"Duchess," Naruto said softly, sending a shiver racing through Gaara from his chin to his toes. He envied the horse because Naruto was rubbing its nose. "Why won't you let anyone break you?"

"Some horses aren't meant to be broken," Gaara said.

"But she's supposed to be my birthday present." Naruto leaned over and kissed the horse's forehead. "I want to ride her, but I'm forbidden to even try until one of the men ride her without being tossed."

"And you always do as your told," he guessed.

"Obviously not. I'm out here talking to you, aren't I?"

"You're talking to your horse. I just happen to be standing nearby."

Naruto flashed him a smile. "I doubt that excuse would hold up in my father's courtroom."

Gaara didn't much like being reminded of Naruto's father. He took a step back. "It's been a long day. I need to get some sleep." And he needed to get to the bunkhouse before Zabuza came after him.

"I've been thinking," Naruto said quietly. "You don't look like a criminal to me. You're innocent, aren't you?"

"No, sir, I'm not."

And with that, he turned on his heel and headed back to the bunkhouse, his cold words reverberating on the air, echoing through his heart. Until this moment, he'd never experienced the shame of being guilty. Oh, he'd been embarrassed when he'd gotten caught, angry even.

But shame had slithered through him.

He didn't much like the judge's son for making him feel that way.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N-I'm finally back! Well that's not exactly true. I have been home for a couple of days but, I'll be honest. I was to lazy to start writing the chapter. But I did it! I had fun at the reunion and at camp. Made some friends checked out the guys. There were a lot of really nice guys. They were wonderful!!!! Anyway here is the next chapter!

Disclaimer- I don't own Naruto.

* * *

The Outlaw

Chapter 4

Naruto stood on the kitchen. Three years ago his father had hired Iruka Umino to take care of the house and cook the meals. But Iruka was much more than a servant. He was also the closest thing Naruto had to a best friend, which was the reason Naruto had decided to let Iruka know about his little plan to reform Gaara. Gaara spoke so little that trying to determine what had motivated him to become an outlaw was going to be impossible when Naruto had to sneak around to talk with him. Naruto needed several hours of uninterrupted time.

"I'm thinking that you're playing with fire," Iruka said. His accent reflected his homeland of Ireland, He was practically a man of the world, having traveled here by herself on a large ship.

Often Naruto felt like a child when he compared his freedom against that which Iruka's family had granted him. He certainly couldn't see his father letting Naruto travel across a river by himself-much less across an ocean.

Naruto watched Iruka bustle around the kitchen putting away the dishes he'd washed after breakfast. With his hair pulled into a high ponytail, Iruka looked older than his twenty-one years.

"But you'll help me, if I manage to pull it off?" Naruto asked.

Iruka came to an abrupt halt and planted his hands on his hips. "Manage to pull it off? When have you not managed to get your way, I want to know?"

"Where the outlaw is concerned. Honestly, Iruka, talking with him is like pulling teeth. It takes a lot of effort but you don't get much for it."

"I didn't think you were supposed to talk to him at all. If your father finds out about last night--"

"He's not going to find out," Naruto assured him. He knew Gaara wouldn't tell. And Naruto had deliberately run into Zabuza that morning on his way to the cookhouse. Zabuza promised not to say anything, although he confessed that he'd been watching them with an eagle eye. He'd also warned Naruto not to approach Gaara again.

"I know I was a little bad," he conceded to Iruka. "I wanted to visit with Duchess, and when I saw Gaara standing there I should have come right back to the house, but no harm came out of my talking to him. Except I want to talk with him some more, but I need you to help me with my plan."

"All right I'll help you, but make a note in that dairy you keep that I've got strong reservations about this crazy scheme of yours," he insisted.

With a delighted smile, Naruto threw his arms around Iruka. "Thanks, Iruka. I promise we'll have fun."

"I'm not so sure about that," Iruka said, wiggling out of Naruto's embrace.

"You'll see. Meanwhile, why don't you start to prepare a picnic basket for later this afternoon?"

He winked at Iruka as he headed out the door. "In case I manage to pull off my plan for today, I'll come back and help you finish after I talk to papa."

Naruto strolled down the hallway toward his father's library. Each morning before he headed out to the country courthouse, he met with Zabuza and Naruto's brothers to discuss the day's work schedule. If he was to succeed with his idea, he needed to catch them before his father adjourned the meeting.

Last night he'd been unable to sleep after returning from his midnight excursion to the corral. He simply couldn't get the outlaw out of his mind.

From his father, he knew criminals emphatically stated they were innocent even when they were obviously guilty. What sort of man was Gaara Sabaku not to deny his guilt?

He hoped to have a clearer idea by the end of the day. He thought it imperative to understand the criminal mind if he wanted to practice law someday.

He stepped onto his father's library, He stood beside his desk with his satchel in his hand, which signaled he was ready to wrap up the meeting and be on his way. Naruto's timing was perfect.

"Papa?"

All the men turned and looked at him. He smiled sweetly.

"Papa, Iruka has offered to sew me a new suit for the birthday party you're going to give me. I was wondering if someone could take us to into town today to purchase some material and a pattern."

His father pursed his lips. He knew that habit meant he was contemplating his request.

"The men have a full schedule," he said

"But if we don't start on the clothes soon, Iruka might not be able to finish it in time," Naruto said.

Kakashi shrugged. "I could spare some time today to take Naruto and Iruka into town."

Inwardly Naruto smiled. He'd suspected for some time that Kakashi might be interested in Iruka. He'd thought he's be more willing to take him if he invited Iruka to accompany him.

His father nodded. "All right then."

Lifting up his satchel, he prepared to depart.

"I thought we'd take Gaara with us," Naruto said quickly.

His father froze in midstride, a surprise look on his face, as though he couldn't quite believe he's heard him correctly.

"I beg your pardon?" he said gruffly.

Naruto took a step toward him, clasped his hands in front of him, and tried not to fidget. Father had quite an intimidating stare when he set his mind to it--as he had now.

"I noticed he had no bag. And his clothes are atrocious," he explained. "I though perhaps we should purchase him something a bit tidier."

"He's an outlaw, Naruto," Gai said.

"I realize that, but I don't understand why we have to make him feel as though he's something to be wiped off our boots. You wanted to give him a chance to prove himself. It seems to me that improving his self-worth might be in order," he explained.

Kakashi laughed. "You think new clothes are the answer? Change the shirt and you'll change the man?"

"Not completely. But I know I always feel better when I wear new clothes," Naruto told him, refusing to give up on his idea.

"He's close to Kakashi's height," Zabuza said. "Maybe your brother has some clothes he wouldn't mind giving up."

Naruto stepped closer to his father and met his gaze. "Do you think Gaara has ever owned a new pair of clothes?"

His father tightened his grip o his satchel before giving a curt nod. "All right. I'll have one ok the boys take him to town—"

"That's silly," Naruto interrupted. "To have someone else take him when we're already going. If Gaara causes any trouble, I'm certain Kakashi can put him in his place." Looking at his brother, he widened his eyes with false innocence. "Couldn't you, Kakashi?"

"Sure, I could handle him if I needed to," he said with authority.

Men and their pride. He'd learned long ago how to use it to his advantage. Just like last night. He'd known if he told Gaara he could leave if he was scared that he would stay. Men and their pride, he thought again.

He has a point, Judge," Zabuza said. "I've got work that needs to be done. Kakashi going is one thing. Taking a second man away from his duties is another."

His father reached out and touched Naruto's cheek. "You have a good heart, Naruto. I'll approve this trip—but only this trip—because you're right. He could use a little sprucing up. But you're to obey Kakashi on all matters."

"I will," he promised. "Thank you, Papa."

"I'll see you this evening." He strode from the room.

Naruto turned to Kakashi. "I thought we could take the buggy, since we won't be loading up on supplies."

Kakashi shook his head. "I don't want Iruka sitting in the backseat of the buggy with the outlaw. The wagon might be better. It'll sit three of us on the bench. Gaara can ride in the back."

"Iruka can sit in the front with you. I'll sit beside Gaara," he offered. "The buggy would make for a much more pleasant journey."

Kakashi narrowed his eyes. "Naruto, why do I feel like I'm being manipulated?"

Naruto smiled brightly and sashayed toward the door, throwing over his shoulder, "Because you are, Kakashi!"

OutlawxOutlawxOutlawxOutlawxOutlaw

Gaara focused his attention n the passing countryside—even though it wasn't nearly as pleasant to look at as the young man sitting beside him.

He could hardly fathom that he was actually sitting beside him, close enough that the slight breeze constantly brought Naruto's honeysuckle scent to tease his nostrils.

Kakshi guided the buggy over the same dirt road they'd traveled yesterday. Iruka sat beside him.

Gaara wouldn't have realized Iruka was a servant if Naruto hadn't told him. No one seemed to treat him as one. They acted like he was more of a friend than someone hired to work for them.

It didn't make any sense to him. Just like he couldn't figure out why they were taking him back to town to purchase clothes. He didn't much like beholden to people. He'd have to keep a tally of the expenses today and figure out how many days to add on to his time so he could pay the judge. He didn't want to stay longer than his sentence dictated, but he didn't see any other way to pay the judge back.

"Did you know that the town is called the Queen City of the Prairie?" Naruto asked.

Gaara turned his attention to him. He sure was pretty. And talkative.

"No, sir."

The railroad had arrived in town about the time Gaara was heading to prison. He'd noticed yesterday that the town had changed considerably since he'd last seen it.

"I think it's exciting that it's become so important to cattle industry," Naruto said.

"Naruto, you couldn't care less about cattle," his brother threw over his shoulder. "You find all the young cattle owners who come to town exciting."

He narrowed his light blue eyes and pursed his lips. "Kakashi, I don't recall inviting you into this conversation."

"I don't recall hearing a conversation going on. Mostly I just heard you prattling," he said.

Gaara thought he could actually see the fine hairs on the back of Naruto's neck bristling.

"I do not prattle," he said sternly. "Besides, if you'd mind your own business, maybe Mr. Sabaku and I could have a conversation."

Kakashi chuckled. "I take lessons on minding my own business from you, Naruto."

"Oh, you!" he leaned across the back of the buggy and whapped his brother on the shoulder.

Gaara expected Kakashi to get angry. Instead he simply grinned.

Rolling his eyes, Naruto settled back into his seat. "Brothers can be so irritating," he muttered. "Do you have any brothers or sisters, Mr. Sabaku?"

"I'd rather you didn't call me that," Gaara said. He wasn't comfortable with the formality or the respect that title of mister indicated.

Naruto peered at him through his lashes. "All right…Gaara."

His gut clenched at the way his name rolled off Naruto's tongue—like warm honey fresh from a beehive on a hot afternoon.

"You didn't answer my question," Naruto reminded him.

"No brothers or sisters—at least none that I know of," he told him.

"Are you an orphan then?" he asked

"I've got no family."

He seemed to mull his answer over, and finding it inadequate, asked, "Did you ever know your parents?"

"Nope."

"I'm sorry."

He stared at Naruto. "It's not your fault."

"I didn't mean I thought it was my fault. I was simply expressing my sorrow because I think it's sad—to be an orphan, I mean."

"I got by." He didn't want Naruto's sorrow or pity.

"Not very well if you ended up in prison," Kakashi said.

Gaara threw the man's back a scathing glare before turning his attention to the passing scenery.

"That wasn't a very nice thing to say, Kakashi," Iruka said.

"It's the truth. I don't see why I should have to skip around the truth."

"You could be a bit more polite. We're trying to make this a pleasant day for Gaara," Naruto said.

That comment took him by surprise. He snapped his head around trying to look at him.

No one seemed to know what else to say. Silence wound its way between them. Gaara studied the trees and land that spread out before them. A short while later they joined a throng of buggies, wagons, and horses making their way into town.

"Kakashi, I thought we'd go to Hanson's Dry Goods," Naruto suddenly announced. "It'll save us time, since we'll be able to purchase Gaara's clothes there, and they usually have a nice selection of fabrics."

"I'm all for saving time," Kakashi said. "And no hat shopping. I don't want to be here until sunset."

Naruto cast a shy glance at Gaara. "He doesn't mean it. If I really wanted to shop for a new hat, he'd let me."

"Don't count on it, Naruto," Kakashi muttered.

He wrinkled his nose and whispered, "He would."

Gaara figured Naruto's brother would let him do just about anything he wanted, since he didn't seem to mind Naruto whapping him on the shoulder.

"I imagined the town has changed considerably since you were last here," Naruto said quietly.

He almost retorted that he'd been here yesterday, but he figured yesterday didn't count. He'd been too self-conscious about his situation to notice much of anything. Now he seemed to notice it all.

He glanced over at Naruto and nodded. "Yes sir."

"We have two railroads now. And the third should be finished by the end of the year."

Maybe he'd use one of those railroads to leave town once he's finished serving his sentence.

Naruto smiled brightly. "A few of the businesses the newspaper office and a couple of the hotels—have telephones."

He stared blankly at him.

"Bein' in prison, he might not know what a telephone is," Iruka offered, accurately interpreting his silence.

Still, did they have to keep bringing up the fact that he'd been in prison—even if he was right? Even if he'd never heard of a telephone?

"I hadn't thought about you not knowing what one is," Naruto said. "It's a machine that allows you to talk to someone you can't even see. Someone who's in another room or another building."

Gaara couldn't begin to imagine how that would work. Or why anyone would want to talk to someone they couldn't see. He wouldn't be able to look into the person's eyes and know what they were thinking. He thought it would make him more uncomfortable than talking to someone he could see.

"You might not have noticed it yesterday, but the town has a mule-drawn streetcar that travels a mile of track from the depot to the courthouse," Naruto said.

He shook his head. He hadn't noticed it. He hadn't noticed much of anything except Naruto.

"The car has benches for people to sit on and windows to stop all the dust from the street getting inside. It makes for a pleasant journey," Naruto told him.

"Unless the car jumps the tracks," Kakashi said over his shoulder. "When it does the passengers have to lift it up and put it back on the tracks. I'd rather walk."

"I'm agreeing with Kakashi," Iruka said. "I'd rather spend my nickel on something else and use my legs to get me where I need to go."

"But the streetcar and the telephone and the gas streetlights are symbols that the town is becoming a city." Naruto looked at Gaara. "Don't you think it's all exciting and important?"

Naruto was looking at him as though he truly wanted to know what he thought.

"I reckon," he said, not wanting to disappoint him.

"Don't you ever say more than two words?"

He shifted in his seat. "I've said more than two words to you."

"But that was miles ago," he told him. "To keep a conversation going you have to add to it. "I've been telling you things that you don't know. Tell me something that I don't know. Tell me how the town is different now than it was when you first saw it."

That was easy enough to do. He held her hopeful gaze and said, "It's bigger."

He laughed, actually laughed, a delightful tinkling sound that reminded him of bells.

"Can you expand on that?" Naruto asked.

"Lot more stores." Clothing stores, leather-goods stores, banks, coffin builders, bakeries, grocers, lawyers, land agents. All Naruto had to do was look around to see the dealers in lumber, silver, fence wire, and tailored clothing.

"I was hoping for a bit more," Naruto said, still smiling.

But he had no more to give him. He looked away from him to the buildings they passed. He didn't want to see Naruto with the twinkle I his eyes and the bright smile.

Pretty Naruto.

Sweet Naruto.

Keep-away-from-him Naruto.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N-Thank you for all your reviews. See what happens when you review! I wasn't even going to start this chapter until later but your reviews made me want to write more. I know this chapter is shorter than my other ones but...oh well. Some are going to be that way. Please review. I love all my wonderful reviewers!!!! Thank you so much!

Disclaimer-I don't own any part of Naruto!

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The Outlaw

Chapter 5

Naruto had never understood why most men despised shopping. He'd expected Gaara to be thrilled at the prospect of purchasing new clothes. Instead he scowled and glanced around as though he couldn't wait to get out of the store.

It didn't help matters that Kakashi seemed equally impatient.

Naruto lifted a chambray shirt off the stack, unfolded it, and held it up. He was slightly disappointed that his attempt at conversation hadn't been as successful as he'd hoped. But he didn't plan to easily give up his quest to learn more from him. Thank goodness he's taken into consideration that it might take him a while to open up more fully. Their time together was only just beginning.

"Turn around, Gaara," he ordered.

"Why?"

He rolled his eyes with impatience at the distrust in his voice. If anyone shouldn't be trusted, it was Gaara.

"So I can get an idea as to whether or not this one will come close to fitting you," he explained.

"It looks about right," Gaara said.

"And I'm sure whoever gave you those clothes thought the same thing. Let's be sure, shall we?"

He turned, presenting Naruto with his back, but his stiff stance fairly shouted that he hadn't wanted to comply with his request.

"Uncross your arms," Naruto said

He did as ordered, but Naruto could tell he wasn't pleased about having to do it. He found it comforting to know the outlaw reacted the same way his brothers would if Naruto wanted to measure a shirt against them.

He held the shirt up to Gaara's shoulders. Despite the fact that Gaara didn't look as though he's eaten a decent meal in his entire life, he did have a broad back and wide shoulders.

"Iruka, what do you think?" Naruto asked.

Iruka stopped browsing through the denim britches. "Might work for sitting in church, but I'm thinking he needs more room for working on a ranch."

"You're right. We'll go with one a bit larger."

He looked through the stack until he found one that was a little bigger. He took the britches that Iruka handed him and passed them to Gaara. "Hold these against your waist."

Reluctantly he did as Naruto commanded.

"Kakashi, those should fit him, don't you think?" he asked.

"I reckon."

"Did you even look?" he asked.

"They're britches. Long enough. Wide enough. They'll do for working on a ranch," Kakashi said.

"You're absolutely no help," He told him.

"You didn't say I had to help. You said I had to bring you to town."

Sometimes his brothers were more trouble than they were worth.

"Fine," he said, ready to move on to the next aspect of his project to tidy Gaara up. "We'll purchase two britches, three work shirts, and a white shirt for special occasions," he said.

"I don't need one for special occasions," Gaara said.

Ignoring him, Naruto picked out the clothes he would purchase, including a white shirt.

"Iruka and I are going to look at patterns and material now," he told Kakashi. "I thought you could take Gaara to the barber's."

Gaara still had stubble covering his face, and his hair fell in shaggy waves around his face. Naruto wondered if anyone had bothered to explain to him that the bunkhouse had a bathing room in the back. He wondered if they trusted him with a straight razor. He'd have to talk with Zabuza about that.

"I thought you just wanted to get him clothes," Kakashi said.

"You thought wrong," he said smugly.

Kakshi sighed. "Do you have any other surprises in store for me?"

"Of course, but if I tell you about them then they won't be a surprise. When we're finished here, we'll meet you at the Peers House," Naruto informed him. He liked the hotel because they had female waiters. He remembered the ruckus that the daring idea had caused.

"All right." Kakashi turned on his heel. "Gaara, let's go."

Naruto watched Gaara follow his brother out of the store. He could hardly wait to see him spruced up. Surly he wouldn't look as dangerous once his hair was trimmed and his face shaved.

Thank goodness, shopping with Iruka would keep him distracted so he wouldn't get antsy while waiting to see the results of his project.

He turned to Iruka. "Now that we got rid of them, let's go have some fun shopping."

Iruka laughed. "I'm thinking you've been having fun all morning manipulating every man in your life, starting with your father."

Naruto had to admit that he was enjoying himself. He just wished he knew how to make Gaara open up a little more. The less he talked, the more Naruto wanted him to.

OutlawxOutlawxOutlawxOutlawxOutlaw

Sitting at a cloth-covered table in the hotel dinning area an hour later, Naruto couldn't be happier. He so enjoyed visiting town. The city had so much excitement to offer.

He wished he did have time to shop for a new hat, but he had plans for the afternoon, and he didn't want to risk not having enough time to carry them through.

Perhaps he'd marry a city fella. His father certainly knew enough lawyers and businessmen, and he was inviting them to his birthday celebration. His brothers knew cattlemen. And they would be coming.

Soon his life could change in ways he's never dared to imagine.

He took a small sip of hot tea from the china cup before saying to Iruka, "I can't imagine what's taking them so long."

Placing his elbows on the table, Iruka leaned forward. "You know, Gaara didn't look anything like I thought he would. I expected him to look a bit meaner. Perhaps have a scar across his face or rotting teeth or a nose knotted up from all the times it had been broken."

Naruto nodded, "I did, too."

"He certainly doesn't say much," Iruka said.

"I don't imagine one does a lot of socializing in prison. I sorta felt like I was carrying on a one-sided conversation—except when Kakashi would interrupt with his views on a subject. I really need you to keep him occupied this afternoon so I can talk with Gaara alone."

"I'm not sure Kakashi will agree to leave you alone with Gaara."

"I don't need to be alone with Gaara. I just need Kakashi to be far enough away that Gaara might feel a bit more comfortable talking with me. Besides, I think Kakashi is sweet on you. I imagine he'll welcome having some time with you."

Don't be silly." Iruka blushed. "Kakashi has no interest in the likes of me."

"Of course he does. And you're just as sweet on him. Admit it. That's the reason you always make his favorite desserts."

"I'll admit I think he is a fine young man."

"Then it shouldn't be a hardship for you to keep him busy this afternoon when I put the next step of my plan into action," Naruto said.

Iruka shook his head. "Why are you so interested in this outlaw?"

"I want to try to figure out why he decided to rob banks." If he could understand that, then the knowledge might help him later if he had to deal with criminals when he became a lawyer.

"He probably started out simple enough. A bit of rebellion. Sneaking around doing things he shouldn't." Iruka raised a brow. "Like spending time with a young man your father has forbidden you to."

"He forbade me to be alone with him," he emphasized. "I've never been completely alone with him."

"I still think your asking for trouble." Iruka raised his hand and waved. "There's Kakashi."

Naruto glanced casually over his shoulder…and ceased to breathe as Gaara strode toward him with a confidence he hadn't exhibited before.

The trip to the barbershop had cleaned him up far better than Naruto expected it to. Gaara's neatly trimmed hair barely touched his collar. Without shaggy red strands falling across his brow, his light green eyes mesmerized him. With his scraggly beard removed, he didn't appear rough.

His nose, cheeks, and chin were more prominent—rugged, as though the dry wind had chiseled them from stone with care and precision. Taking its time and striving for perfection.

Naruto couldn't tare his gaze from him. The outlaw was without a doubt one of the handsomest young men he'd ever seen.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: So sorry it's late. Really late. School is just….bleh. You all thought I had abandoned my story huh. Sorry.

Disclaimer: I don't own.

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As they traveled back toward the ranch, Gaara tried not to remember the way Naruto had stared at him as he'd walked into the hotel. Naruto looked the way he figured he had when he was younger and had slipped beneath the big tent at a circus and watched the trapeze act-mesmerized, unable to believe what he was seeing.

Naruto's eyes had been big and round, his mouth slightly parted.

"Well," Naruto finally said. "Don't you look…different."

He wasn't certain if looking different was a good thing or not. He'd never gone to a barber before. He'd always cut his own hair using a knife. Looking at his reflection in the barbershop, he'd been surprised by his appearance. Although he knew five years had passed, he'd avoided mirrors in prison and had halfway expected to see a fourteen-year-old staring back at him at the barbershop.

It saddened him to see the passing years carved in his face, to see a young man where once there had been a boy. Gazing in the mirror might not have been such a good thing to do.

"Kakashi, why don't you take that trail up there so we can have a picnic by the river?" Naruto suddenly said, his question more of a statement.

Kakashi jerked his head around. "You didn't say anything about a picnic."

"I thought I did."

"No, you didn't."

Gaara couldn't get over how much they argued. But there never seemed to be any anger in their words. It was more playfulness than anything. It was obvious they held a great deal of affection for each other. Gaara couldn't imagine arguing with someone and not being angry at the same time. He'd never been around people like these, and they made him uncomfortable. Made him very much aware that he didn't fit in.

"What did you think was in the basket that Iruka put in the back of the buggy?" Naruto asked.

Kakashi snapped his attention to Iruka. "I reckon I didn't give it much thought. But I didn't have plans for us to take a picnic."

"It didn't take us that long in Fort Worth," Naruto said. "Surely we have time for a quick picnic. I'm certain Iruka brought your favorites, didn't you, Iruka?"

Iruka smiled sweetly. "Of course. Fried chicken and buttermilk cake."

Kakashi shook his head. "I don't know, Naruto. They'll be expecting us."

"Please, Kakashi. I'd hate to think Iruka went to all that trouble for nothing."

"All right. We'll stop for a little while."

Naruto settled back and shifted his gaze to Gaara. "Do you like picnics?"

He shrugged.

"Don't tell me you've never been on one," he said softly.

"It's eating outside, isn't it?" Gaara asked

"Yes, it's something like that."

"Well, I've eaten outside."

He wouldn't mind the delay that stopping to eat would grant him. He wasn't in any all-fired hurry to return to the ranch, where everyone watched him as though they expected him to make a mistake, to bolt, or to break one of the judge's rules.

The buggy swayed as Kakashi guided the horses off the main road onto a less-traveled trail. Naruto bumped against Gaara. His cheeks burned red as he scooted away from him and held on to his side of the wagon.

It was just a slight touch, but still he felt where Naruto's shoulder had brushed against his as though he's set a hot brand against him. Why was he so aware of everything about him, everything surrounding him? Why did Naruto make him wish he could say he'd been on a thousand picnics, knew all the things Naruto knew, had done all the things Naruto had done?

Kakashi brought the buggy to a halt not far from the river. He hopped out, walked swiftly around the horses, and helped Iruka and Naruto climb out of the buggy.

"Gaara, help me unhitch the horses," Kakashi said, "while they get things ready."

Gaara climbed out of the buggy. He watched as Naruto carried a quilt and Iruka carted a basket to a nearby tree. He turned and found Kakashi glaring at him.

"Just in case you haven't figured it out yet…stay away from Iruka, as well as Naruto, or you'll find yourself back in prison," Kakashi said.

XoutlawXoutlawXoutlawXoutlawXoutlaw

"Now remember," Naruto whispered to Iruka, "as soon as we've finished eating, convince Kakashi to take you for a walk so I can talk to Gaara without Kakashi's interference."

Iruka glanced over to where Kakashi and Gaara were leading the horses to the river.

"I'll try, but I don't know if I'll have much luck at it," he said.

Naruto was certain he'd have a great deal of luck. He was sure Kakashi had a soft spot for Iruka. He'd spent too much time glancing over at him as he's driven the buggy. It had been funny to watch because every time Iruka looked over at Kakashi, Kakashi would look away—as though he didn't want to get caught.

Sitting on the quilt he'd spread out beneath the boughs of the tree, Naruto removed food from the basket—all while keeping an eye on Gaara. He'd always heard that a way to a man's heart was through his stomach. He wasn't interested in capturing Gaara's heart, but he did hope that feeding him would put him a little more at ease and cause him to open up a bit more.

He watched as Gaara and Kakashi began walking toward them—not like friends would, side by side, but as strangers, with Gaara trailing a little behind his brother. Gaara's gaze kept darting toward the river, and Naruto wondered if he was contemplating the merits of escaping.

XoutlawXoutlawXoutlawXoutlawXoutlawXoutlaw

Escape! Escape! The word thundered through Gaara's mind like a herd of stampeding mustangs.

He was beginning to think everyone was playing a practical joke on him, offering him freedom and all the while trying to figure out how to snatch it away.

He was supposed to stay away from Naruto. Stay away from Iruka. And while doing that, he was supposed to sit down and have a meal with them. A picnic.

He felt awkward and ignorant around these people. They didn't seem to measure their words when they spoke to one another. They bickered with no anger. They teased, cajoled, and seemed at ease with one another.

When members of the gang bickered, they usually came to blows. Gaara had been most comfortable with Sometimes-Red-Eye-Itachi, but still it was an uneasy partnership, never trusting Itachi a hundred percent, never knowing when the gang might abandon Gaara. And abandon him they had.

He knew he had only himself to blame for being sent to prison, but still it rankled.

He followed Kakashi as they got closer and closer to the tree where Naruto sat on a quilt. Gaara wondered how he was going to manage to eat with these people and stay away from them at the same time. Because he definitely did not want to go back to prison.

If someone offered him all the money in the world to go back to prison, he'd say no. Nothing on God's green earth was worth going back to prison for. No, sir. He'd do anything, absolutely anything, to stay out of prison. And that included following the judge's rules.

Kakashi dropped onto an empty space on the quilt.

Naruto patted an area beside him. "Sit here, Gaara."

He hesitated. Was disobeying him going to get him sent back to prison?

"Rather not," he finally managed to say. He glanced at Kakashi, who nodded. What did that mean? Was it all right to sit beside Naruto, or was he approving Gaara's unwillingness to do so?

Gaara walked past him and sat with his back against the tree trunk. He was close enough to partake of the victuals, but far enough away that he wasn't really part of the group.

"Gaara, do you like fried chicken?" Naruto asked.

"Yes, sir."

He took the chicken leg he handed him and was halfway finished eating it before he noticed Kakashi wasn't eating the piece he'd been given.

"Most folks wait until everyone is served," Kakashi said.

Gaara glanced around. Naruto was holding a piece of chicken; Iruka wasn't.

"I'm sure Gaara didn't mean to be rude," Naruto said.

More rules. He'd do better standing by the river until these people were finished with their picnic, He raised his knee, draped his wrist over it, and dangled the chicken over the ground, waiting for everyone to be severed.

Kakashi finally took a bite and made a sound deep in his throat that sounded like a gagged cow: "Mmm."

"Iruka knows all Kakashi's favorite foods," Naruto said. "What's your favorite food, Gaara?"

Anything that filled his belly.

"Don't have a favorite."

"I'm partial to fudge," Naruto admitted. "Iruka, what do you like?"

"I like anything with a bit of sweetness to it," Iruka said.

Gaara started to take a bite of his chicken.

"Do you like sweet things, Gaara?" Naruto asked.

He stilled. Sure he liked sweet things. He nodded. "A good tempered horse."

Kakashi burst out laughing. Iruka covered his mouth to hide his smile.

Naruto's eyes sparkled. "I meant sweet things to eat."

"Oh." He felt foolish. Outlaws never talked about what kind of food they liked to eat. He didn't fit with these people. Never would. Still, he searched his memory for the last time he'd eaten something sweet and mumbled, "Gumdrops."

Naruto's face lit up. "Lemon?"

He nodded.

"Me, too. If I'd known, I would have purchased some when we were in town."

He shook his head. "I'm already going to have to work extra days at the ranch after I've served my time so I can pay the judge back for everything you purchased for me today," Gaara said. "I don't need gumdrops."

Everyone looked at him as though they were surprised to fined him sitting near them.

He looked away from them. He really wished he were standing by the river. Alone. Alone was the way he'd been for most of his life. He was more comfortable with it than sitting with these people and trying to belong.

When they finished eating, Gaara still sat with his back against the tree. Naruto had scooted over a little so he was closer, his profile to him—portrait-perfect pretty.

A short distance away, Iruka and Kakashi were picking flowers near the river, where the horses had been left to graze. Every now and then Kakashi darted a quick glance over his shoulder—as though he expected Gaara to be stupid enough to try and escape. Not that the thought hadn't crossed his mind at least a hundred times since he's stepped off the train yesterday.

He longed for the freedom that running would give him. But the thought of getting caught kept him tethered to the spot. He didn't want to go back to prison.

"I think Iruka likes Kakashi," Naruto said wistfully. "And Kakashi likes him, but they're like two skittish horses prancing around each other."

Naruto looked at him. "Do you think that's the way one goes about courting?"

"How would I know?"

Naruto smiled self-consciously. "I guess not."

He glared at him. "Not at all."

Naruto blushed becomingly, and Gaara cursed himself for taking his frustrations out on Naruto.

"I'm sorry," Gaara said quietly.

The words sounded strange coming out of his mouth. He couldn't recall ever using them before.

Naruto lifted his gaze to him. "That's all right. I suspect the abrupt change to your life takes a bit of adjustment.

He nibbled on his bottom lip. "Can I ask you a question?"

"You can ask," Gaara told him. "Doesn't mean I'll answer."

Naruto wiggled until he's inched a bit closer to him. "Why did the leader of the gang go by the name of Sometimes-Red-Eye-Itachi?

"Because when he got mad his eyes would turn red."

Furrowing his brow delicately, he shook his head. "So the name referred to that?

"Yes, he would get mad quite often so it looked like there was a red film covering his eyes."

He grimaced. "That's rather disgusting."

"Yeah, it could be, but that was Itachi."

It had been a long while since he'd spoken so many words strung together. He looked away, feeling strange that he'd said as much as he had. He'd rarely spoken in prison because talking usually led to trouble.

"Was the man ever honest about anything?" Naruto asked.

"Some things. He carried out every threat I ever heard him make."

"He sounds like an absolutely charming man," he said.

"He wasn't really."

"I was being sarcastic," Naruto said.

"Oh."

He wasn't much good talking to pretty men. He could discuss the quickest route to take out of town after robbing a bank, could explain the best way to break into a safe, and could describe the particulars of dressing a wound. He didn't think Naruto would be interested in the topics he knew something about.

So he let the silence stretch between them. He listened to the breeze rustling the leaves overhead, the birds twittering, and the occasional neigh of a horse. It was a strange thing, sitting with Naruto on a warm afternoon.

He was startled when Naruto reached over and touched the scar on his wrist.

"That must have hurt," he said softly, sympathetically.

He looked at her tan finger against his ivory skin, and slowly lifted his gaze to Naruto's blue eyes.

"I'm sorry they hurt you," he said.

Gaara didn't know what to say. No one had ever shown him that much kindness. He felt a knot rise in his throat that made it difficult to swallow. Naruto wasn't supposed to be nice to him.

He glanced at the river. The last thing he wanted Naruto's brother to see was Naruto touching Gaara's arm. He shifted slightly so Naruto's hand fell away from him.

"I've been the one asking questions," Naruto said. "Is there anything you'd like to ask me?"

As a matter of fact, he had been wondering about something. He asked, "Do you know if Zabuza's ever been to prison?"

"I've heard he spent some time in a Yankee prison during the war, but he doesn't talk about it," he said.

Gaara hid his disappointment. He'd been hoping that he and the foramen might have something in common. But if Zabuza had fought in the war, he was probably close to being a hero. Gaara had never been and never would be a hero.

With an unexpected, delightful smile, Naruto leaned toward him. "I did something terribly wicked today while you and Kakashi were off at the barber's. If I share it with you, will you promise not to tell a soul?"

Terribly wicked? The judge's daughter?

Well, well, well. So maybe he wasn't the prim and proper young man that he'd suspected him of being.

His mind reeled with the possibilities of what Naruto had done, and he was more than eager to hear about his notorious behavior.

"I won't tell a soul," he promised.

Naruto smiled brightly, popped to his feet, and raced to the buggy. He came back carrying a package wrapped in brown paper.

"Papa forbids me to have these," he confessed. "But when I saw this one, I just couldn't resist."

He tugged on the string, and Gaara's interest increased. He couldn't imagine what it could be, but what ever it was, Naruto kept it well protected.

Carefully he folded back the paper, and there it was in all its decadent glory: a dime novel. Lariat Lorena.

"I've never seen one that featured a women as the main character," he told Gaara. I simply had to purchase it, even if Papa doesn't think novels like this one are worth the paper there're printed one."

He couldn't believe it. He absolutely couldn't believe it. This was Naruto's excursion into wickedness? A book?

He couldn't help himself. He laughed long and hard. Laughing like he'd never laughed in his life.

"What's so funny?" Naruto asked.

"You think that's"—he pointed at the book he'd clutched to his chest—"wicked."

"But Papa forbade me to read these books. I thought…I thought…"

He looked at the book. Then at him. Tears welled in his eyes.

Gaara's laughter came to an abrupt end. He hadn't meant to hurt his feelings. He didn't know how to act around decent folks. Everything he did. Everything he said was wrong. Maybe he did belong in prison, away from the world.

He watched with increasing horror as a solitary tear rolled down Naruto's cheek. He had no idea what to do around someone weeping. He didn't even have a handkerchief to give him. "Geez, don't cry."

He sniffed and swiped at a corner of his eye. "You must think I'm terribly stupid."

"Not stupid," Gaara rushed to assure him, trying to think of something he could say to make Naruto feel better. "My reading is just passable. I've never read a book like that one. I'm sure, if you say so, that it's very wicked."

Naruto pouted out his lower lip. "It's not really. That's part of the reason I don't understand why Papa objects to it."

"What's going on here?" Kakashi yelled.

Gaara hadn't seen Kakashi's arrival, but he suddenly found himself jerked to his feet with a fist balled around his shirt and glaring eyes boring into him.

Kakashi shook him. "What did you do to make him cry?"

"Kakashi!" Naruto jumped up and placed a hand on his brother's arm. "Let him go!"

"What did he do Naruto?" Kakashi asked.

"Nothing." Naruto reassured him.

Kakashi narrowed his eyes into razor-sharp slits. Gaara could see that the man was one wrong word away from throttling him—so he kept his mouth shut. Nothing to be gained by tossing a flame onto a keg of dynamite.

"Kakashi!" Naruto cried. "He didn't do anything."

"I knew this picnic was a bad idea." Kakashi shoved Gaara against the tree before releasing him.

"I'm getting the horses and we're heading home." Kakashi pointed his finger as Gaara. "You don't move from this spot until I have the horses hitched up. Do you understand?'

Gaara nodded. For a brief time, he had foolishly forgotten that he was still a prisoner. "Yes, sir."

"Kakashi, you're acting crazy," Naruto protested.

"Naruto, I'm taking care of this matter," Kakashi ground out, his threatening glare never wavering from Gaara. "You've been manipulating me all morning. And don't think I don't know it. I'm in charge here, and unless you want Father to hear about this incident, you'll do as I say. Now get to the buggy."

Gaara didn't dare look at Naruto, but he heard him indignant huff and the pounding of his footsteps as he trudged away.

"Don't move from this spot," Kakashi ordered one last time before going after the horses.

Gaara tried to calm his pounding heart, striving to tame his disappointment. All Naruto had needed to do was thrust his stupid book in front of his brother's angry face, so he could explain what happened.

But doing that would have meant exposing his little wicked disobedience.

No one had ever stood up for him before. He'd been a fool to hope this one time, someone would.

* * *

Don't worry. Things will get better for Gaara! 


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